Hard Candy Holiday
by Wanderlustlover
Summary: Superheroes can find Christmas a hard holiday. Dick & Roy especially. For some angst and hot. A holiday challenge fic.


**Recipient:** buggery

**Characters Requested**: Roy Harper, Dick Grayson

**Summary:** Sometimes Christmas was a hard holiday

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Closing the door softly, his fingers brushing the grain of the wood as if it were china, he slipped from her room like a ghost. His fingers slid flat against the hard surface of the door and he let his forehead come to rest against it next just as quietly. A deep, haunted sound, like something trapped and angry, slipped through his lips as he pulled his fist back to strike the door, his fist stopping just before he punched a small pottery plaque that read 'Lian's Room'.

"Stupid," Roy spat the word in a harsh whisper, shaking his hand until his fingers were splayed wide. Then he spun on his heel and started down the corridor, muttering, "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

He threw his bedroom door open, not caring in the slightest when it hit the wall with a loud bang followed by some small crashes. He guessed they were things the door hit that had fallen but he didn't even hazard a glance. He did hope for a few seconds that whatever it was hadn't broken, but the thought fell away as he yanked open the door to his closet. He truly didn't want to care. Lian's bedroom was three doors down and she wouldn't wake due to the soundproofing in the tower.

First came down the piled blankets, then some luggage, a rumpled spare uniform and a set of broken arrows, before he found what he'd come for. It was massive. It was nice. It was shiny. And it looked much too cheerful for him to be gathering into his arms, especially when all he wanted was to break someone or something till it was beyond repair and unrecognizable. That didn't stop him from pulling the whole pile of presents lining his closet shelf into his arms.

He couldn't see around them, but that just meant some creative adjusting as he shuffled out of the closet, using his arm, his side, and his back to tell where the wall and door was. It was a couple of feet through his room, and one casual glance at his side surroundings, that brought him to the door -*Thunk*- which was apparently lower than the stack of presents was high. A few started to wobble, but there was no way to catch any of them lest he drop all the others.

"Got it," a soft voice said as he watched the top-most present begin to slip to one side. It was recovered in midair by a pale hand emerging from a fuzzy black robe with silver lined edges and small white snowflakes embroidered all over it. Donna now held the medium sized candy cane white-and-red square package.

"I would have gotten it," Roy said tensely, looking away.

"I'm sure you would have," Donna replied calmly, as she held the door for him. "I was up getting some cider because I couldn't sleep, and I heard you moving about as I was on my way back."

Staring at the packages in front of him helped him not to look into her face. He'd been with her. He'd gotten used to knowing what her most patented expressions looked like just based on the sound and timbre of her voice. This one would be those deep blue eyes staring at him, asking him just to tell her what was wrong, while her soft red lips smiled and said he didn't have to talk if he didn't want to. He didn't want to look, because he knew he'd want to tell her and he didn't want to tell anyone, he just wanted to be angry.

"I'm busy right now," he replied with his voice cold and hard, still without looking at her, but gesturing with the boxes for her to put the other back into the pile. "I need to get these out and then check on Lian."

Placing the gift back on the pile, Donna watched him walk off. Being dismissed didn't really so much bother her as not knowing what was wrong. She didn't push, even though she felt the lie in his words even as they reached her ears, full of the sounds of rusted tin jarring inside her skull. She took a sip of the cider cup in her hand, left cooling till now, and watched him round a corner toward the main room.

Sometimes Christmas was a hard holiday.

Dick stared at the gaudy tree in half disgust and half whimsy. It was like a train wreck he couldn't look away from. It was eight and half feet tall, with flickering lights and shining balls all over it. There were ornaments with everyone's name. Things in shapes that seemed impossible. Everything was shiny and perfect. Even the star on the top with an odd "T" someone had tried to attach to the very center.

And he mostly hated it, to be true.

Because Christmas was all about family, and the people who didn't have family, or worse didn't have the family they wanted there, were pretty much screwed from the get go. Then it seemed shiny and fake, instead of shiny and magical. If he tilted his head this way a little more maybe he'd see why the girls had been so giddy for him to be here to help do this, even though they'd understood him having to stay in Bludhaven a while longer.

They'd have hated the real reason he didn't come. So he was still in his uniform even though he knew most of them were fast asleep already.

The people who thought Christmas was a hard holiday really needed to get a fresh perspective. Christmas was hell for a lot of people and he was tired of being frowned at by the girls when he didn't want to be involved with their cookies or decorations or caroling or whatever new idea had them giggling like high schoolers again.

Falling into a corner of the center couch, diagonal from the tree, he dug beneath him, extracted the pillow he'd sat on, and tossed it away from him. All without taking his eyes off the tree. It really wasn't a wonder he didn't like Christmas, and never had, no matter how hard Babs or Alfred had tried. He really just wished that the holiday would pass without someone trying to cheer him up or complaining that he didn't have 'that holiday spirit'.

The only thing he liked about this holiday was the cold.

It was comforting.

Hard, heavy steps heralded the entrance of their archer, walking sideways so he could see a little, who was loaded far beyond the hilt with sparkling packages. He was still casually dressed in pants and a maroon sweater. The one that matched the blue one wadded on Dick's apartment floor. The girls had thought it funny to go out and get everyone sweaters matching their uniform colors.

Roy went straight to the tree and started putting things under it.

"The Christmas Cronies get you into their work, too?" Dick asked from the couch, not moving a muscle from where he was still sitting in the corner, his head tilted toward the brightness of the tree in the unlit main room.

Roy was concentrating so hard on the tree that he was on one knee shoving things under -and making the tree shake with each thrust- that he never noticed Dick's presence. A few presents fell as he spun to face the person talking to him in the darkened room. He narrowed his eyes on Nightwing and said, angrily, "Christmas can blow me."

Dick thought about hitting back a retort, but didn't. The edges of his lips twitched like he might be about to smile, but his facial expression didn't change much, only the direction he was leaning his head to look at the tree. He really thought there was something not right about it. "So I'm not the only sane one."

The answer seemed to surprise him, but his face and posture easily gave away that he was just looking for a fight. His eyes narrowed tight and released twice, before he just turned his back on Dick and went back to arranging presents under the tree. He'd made some ornaments fall, but heedlessly he kept shoving more presents under the twinkling, plastic, commercialistic god in front of him.

"I don't think I could handle being one of those sickeningly joyous people out there, obsessed with snowflakes and tinsel," Dick said complacently, though there was a dark, ominous tone behind his words. He nodded at the tree as he continued, "Take this for instance. Give me back our puzzle table any day. This is bright, garishly so….and honestly, blinking and looking innocent—it's, just plain creepy."

Roy couldn't help the faint smile that quirked one side of his lips, try though he might. Continuing to put presents under the tree, he remarked, "You run around in black, blue and yellow pajamas for six years, calling yourself a bird, and you think a fake tree is creepy?"

"Exactly," Dick replied, amusement lacing the one word, but not enough to show he'd won, as he moved to sit forward and place his elbows on his knees. "See they think of this as hope. A very expensive, yearly tended, needs more plastic and glitter-covered objects each time, symbol of hope. When in fact it addicts children's expectations to a day of monetary gratification and later in their lives leaves them feeling empty for a feeling that only children can feel and adulthood can break children of."

"Besides, I'll have you know," he added after a moment of silence, the edges of his eyes crinkling. "I get my pj's made by only the best of the best. I could give their number if you need it. But only if you're really good."

"You're a sick man, Dick."

"On my good days," he shot back with a dull and resigned sound to his voice, settling back into the couch, as he stared at play of shadow and light on the ceiling above the tree, wishing he were actually tired. He doubted in his line of work it was really insomnia. After all, daytime cop, nighttime vigilante. Sleep wasn't necessary most of the time and it was frequently in the way of something.

There were never enough hours in the day.

Roy sat with his back to him, slowly picking up the ornaments he'd dropped. He put them back on one at a time, and not in such a pretty assortment as they'd originally been, but all sort of localized in the same section of branches. Somehow the girls would notice, but neither of the men seemed to care.

It took a few minutes, but after a deep sigh, which actually startled Dick from his own thoughts, Roy said, "I told Lian that Santa would try hard to grant all her wishes for Christmas. She was really patient in detailing what toys she's in love with, but before she went to bed she said all she really wanted was her mother to be here on Christmas when she woke up. That she'd give up all her presents for it."

Dick's jaw tightened, but, he still looked relaxed against the couch with his head back and his eyes focused on the play of light and dark. His eyes flickered closed, then opened again on his friend's voice as the ragged, quiet confession continued.

"If it was something physical, it'd be here. If I couldn't afford it, I'd borrow the money. I'd get someone to help me. You, any of the Titans, anyone. If it was something I could get, it'd be here before morning."

"I hate Christmas. I hate Christmas. I hate Christmas." Silence reigned for another minute before Roy's fist came down against his leg and his voice cut through the air. His back shook even as Dick finally did move to stop him, swift and silent even in the dark main room of the Titan's Tower.

"Don't." He had a tight grip around Roy's forearm before he could punch his leg again, but it was the tracks of tears that crossed Roy's face that .

Roy let his arm fall limp, staring into the face so very close to his now. Startling blue eyes that reflected coldly and clearly the lights from the tree. Dick's fingers still encircled his wrist, for the moment, just in case. He looked at the floor, the presents at his feet, and wiped at his tears with the other hand, embarrassed. "Give me something -anything good about tomorrow."

Dick relaxed his hand slowly, shifting the position at which he held Roy's wrist. "Donna says there will be stockings full of candy and toys, homemade breakfast, and then later there will be carol-"

"No," Roy said suddenly, voice quaking. "Something real."

Dick closed his eyes, willing himself to find a glimmer. A real and beautiful something in a day he'd oft avoided and longed to do so with all over again. And yet he was here on the floor of one of the only places in his world he felt safe and holding on to one of the people he respected and felt loyalty to most. And even with that sense of security, terror filled him trying to go against every shrieking sound in his head. Back to the place he put away.

To the things he only visited on Christmas.

And never shared.

"My mother told me that Christmas had a flavor," he started slowly, and it was his turn to avoid a pair of piercing eyes when Roy looked toward him and he looked to the ground. He willed himself not to shake. "Like a peppermint spice on your tongue and melted the way snowflake does the moment it touches but was captured by your heart and could never be forgotten."

"She said that it was the very best time of the year, because you got the new and always saw the old all at once without comparing. That this was the true time of family, because even if presents, meals and cards brought them together, the years could never tear the bonds built on this day apart, because you would always remember the laughter, the smiles, and the love."

"She said that snowflakes and candles glimmering on trees were the ways those on the other side told us that everything would be alright, that life would always go on. She said that all fights should be put aside for Christmas, because it was the miracle at the end of the year that meant another year was being given to you and everyone you knew, and that everything was to be celebrated then beca-"

"Dick?"

Dick stopped only because Roy's voice struck him from his thoughts, and it took very few seconds to realize that it was not someone else but himself who was shaking, with tears falling. When had he stopped sitting there calmly speaking? He pulled away from Roy very suddenly, swiping at the tears as though they were unwelcome invaders.

"Dick. Dick, stop. It's okay." Roy said gathering the sides of his friends' face in his hands, his own face full of alarm now. Dick, his hands still covering his face, shook even once Roy pulled him in close. After another minute he stilled altogether and felt almost awkward in the embrace, but not wanting to move yet.

He also would never have admitted out loud that the scent of his friend –sweat, baby powder, and some kind of shampoo- seemed much more comforting than the mythical peppermint spice that had haunted his heart for so many years. So instead, he said, "Is it my turn to mention I hate Christmas now?"

Laughter barreled up through the red head and filled warmly in Dick's hair. "Well, at least we're in good company."

Dick looked up and found himself smiling in spite of the pain inside his chest, and found a strange new ache just looking into the green eyes so close to him. It was an ache that filled his chest so completely that simple breathing seemed out of the question. All he wanted to do was lean forward, and it was because of that he pushed Roy's arm from around him and moved away. He nodded, and kept the smile there, fake now, but constant. "I don't suppose we will be in good company tomorrow if neither of us gets any sleep tonight. The 'Christmas Cronies' will kill us both."

Roy nodded, rubbing his head, and then stood up. "That's probably true."

He held out a hand for Dick, though wasn't surprised when it wasn't taken. Dick was usually standoffish and it was surprising enough that he'd given up something so precious at his request. To be so close and so far all at once was not surprising, even if it felt like a snub. Dick had always been this way.

"What are you two still doing up?" A voice stopped them both in the door.

"Finishing up playing Santa," Roy replied flippantly, without even a break, as he leaned against one side of the doorway, knowing he stood a bit in Dick's way still. It was interesting to see Donna's perplexed look as she carried mall bags full of wrapped gifts, headed for the same job.

"Uh-huh," Donna replied, with an oddly impish smile.

"What? You don't believe me." Roy said incredulously, looking very mock hurt by her suspicion. "C'mon, Dick. Tell her we were playing Santa so the Christmas Cronies wouldn't fry us in the morning for doing nothing this month."

"No, no. I believe you," She answered with a laugh, as she set one bag on the ground next to her. "No, it's just don't think you two realize where you're standing."

"You're kidding, right?" Dick sputtered as he spied the unloved and wilted mistletoe hanging above them. He even remembered when she put it up in the beginning of the month, because she'd frowned at him for the things he'd said about it. "It's still nonsense."

"Well, I'm sure it won't be a problem for you two. After all, Dick here said everyone in the Tower's pretty much kissed everyone else in the Tower at some point." Donna hit back with a smirk.

"You're kidding, right?" Roy asked, feeling his palms get a bit itchy. He wasn't sure he couldn't blame Donna for suddenly having turned on the heat. Because he was remembering Dick really close to him, first with the reflection of the lights in his eyes, then crying and holding on to him, and it was affecting him in ways it hadn't then. Ways that he was sure were best put very far away.

"Nope," She said shaking her head. "It's bad luck to ignore it. So why don't you two just kiss and go to bed, so I can play Santa next."

Roy turned to Dick, who was looking from Donna and finally to Roy himself, with an incredulous expression on his face. Dick himself was sure this was insane. Because now the scent of shampoo was back and he was thinking that only being outside the building might clear his head, except those green eyes were piercing into his skull. "You're kidding, right? What happened to hating Christmas?"

"I still do," the archer replied. "Doesn't mean I'm going to go looking for bad luck though. Can't hurt and I'm sure she'll lord it over us for weeks if we don't."

"Yep," Donna popped in. "Probably the other girls, too. We're so mean and cruel, you know."

"I'd believe it," Dick muttered, just loud enough for both of them to hear it. He turned to look at Roy after a moment, with a look like the man was insane. Mostly because he was afraid of the idea of kissing him now, because his heart was beginning to race. "So."

Roy mumbled something in response to Dick's filler word and they both stared at each other, past the point when Donna made impertinent and fake sounding yawn, except much more faked than real. And then Roy decided this was just going to become tedious if it took any longer.

"Oh, screw it," Roy said and grabbed Dick's face, bringing it to his own.

Their lips touched, sweet and wet, which could have been simple and chaste, except that Dick, needing more air in his lungs, opened his mouth to take a breath and ended up with the Archer's lower lip between his own, and suddenly Roy was letting out a soft groan.

Somewhere between the struggle of whose arms went where, Dick had pushed Roy against the door jam, and Roy's tongue twisted in with his own. He had completely forgotten that he was being watched. At least until they pulled apart a moment later, aroused and out of breath, their noses still touching.

Partly into Roy's mouth, Dick said between gulps of stealing air, "Picture frame. Nice one. Put a picture of Cheshire and Lian together in it and give it to her."

"Well, if someone knows how to wrap that up, I know what I want for Christmas," Donna stated smartly, picking up her bags and startling Roy back into reality.

"See," Roy shot back, pulling himself out of the tangle and recovering. "It wasn't about bad luck, it's that our innocent angel has a male on male fetish she's not telling us about."

Dick laughed, still red faced, and pushed Roy out of the doorway. "Move. I'd hate to hear her decide we've stood here too long. Then she'll say we have to do it again."

"Bed for all good heathens," Roy said in Donna's direction with a teasing smirk lighting the edges of his swollen lips. "And maybe if you're good, Santa will bring you your own boy porn so you can't torture your roommates into making out for the sake of your own Christmas Nazism."

"Nazism?" Donna repeated with a laugh at his joke, as she made her way into the open room with her bags of presents. "Oh, go away, now."

"Good night, Donna. See you in the morning," Dick replied with a smile, shaking his head as he steered Roy away.

"Did I see what I think I just saw?"

Donna spun around to hear the high, soft voice that had surprised her and her blue eyes found Jesse standing by the tree with a small collection of presents in her hands, staring at the door in awe. Her blonde hair was pulled back and she had a long silky black nightgown on that didn't at all look like it was made for public consumption.

"Boy's making out in the doorway?" Donna questioned, as her focus turned back to the presents. "And looking like they enjoyed it?"

"Uh, well," Jess said, swallowing as she put another present down on a stack. "Yeah."

"Me, too. So you weren't dreaming," She said walking in and setting down a bag of presents, which she just quickly started piling on one side of the tree without much spread out. The tree was beginning to look like it would be piled sky high by morning.

"That was, hot, for lack of a better term." Jesse said oddly, looking toward the door. Her fingers ran along the neck of her nightgown, which lay starkly black against her incredibly pale skin. "I could –you know-"

"We shouldn't," Donna said without pause, not even sounding all that distracted by the conversation. Where Jesse's cheeks still were slightly red, Donna seemed almost untouched by the scene. A moment later she added, "It's not our place. If the two of them find some comfort tonight, we should count it as a blessing in whatever guise it comes."

"Not to mention," Roy cracked with a laugh. "That you bats and birds have a dastardly habit of keeping it in the family. We all know. All of us. Every one. And we're just snickering about when you're not watching."

"I'm sure you don't want me to start telling you how bad and erotic it becomes in shop talk when you archers talk about how pulling your bows feels so right and natural." Dick's lips curled into a smile, as they arrived at Roy's door. He licked the edge of his lip as they came to a stop, his own body becoming still all over again by training, and perhaps a bit more. "Do you think the picture will help?"

Roy lifted an eyebrow at the drop in Dick's voice and the change of subject. But it made him smile a bit more, his eyes filled with amusement and his voice teasing the whole time. "I'm sure she'll love it. Maybe you'd like to pick the picture, too?"

"I'm sure whatever you pick will be fine," Dick replied, as he let himself look casually down a hallway. Or at least he hoped it was casually because for the truth it just gave him a moment to look away from that face that was suddenly immersed in a million dirty fantasies in his head.

"You know, Dick, for someone so smart and smooth, sometimes you really are stupid," Roy commented, his lips pressed together to stop a laugh that seemed to permeate the air. One hand twisting the doorknob, Roy's other hand had touched Dick's face and twisted into his hair, bringing them back into a kiss.

"Lian?" Dick said, against the lips that were now moving against his, using all his will not to just succumb immediately. He wanted this. His blood was screaming for it.

"Is fast asleep in her own room," Roy mumbled into Dick's skin as he began to move across his face. Kisses rained like hard welts against part of the skin on his neck, and Dick's legs all but lost the ability to stand as he shuddered under his friends touch. Dick's ragged breathing in his ear hiccupped, another protest forming, but Roy laced his hands behind Dick's head and purred against his lips. "Stop talking, Dick."

Dick almost laughed and was about to say 'but' just to be petulant, but the next moment Roy's lips were on his, hard and demanding, leaving no room to balk. The jokes were forgotten; the kisses were scalding hot and the hands across their bodies losing all timidity, as Dick pushed them forward into the room.

There was another crashing sound, and then a loud thud on the back of the door, followed by a pleading groan. Then there was a gasp and soft, heated laughter and mumbling. She might not be able to see through walls, but Jesse stood, wavering in the hall outside their room, out of breath herself.

She listened a few moments longer before speeding off to her own room and a night of what she was sure would be steamy dreams. The Amazon princess might not care because she came from an island where homosexuality was everywhere…but Jesse was a creation of her own society.

And damn it, if hot men, who were both gorgeous and highly erotic on their own, making out in her house wasn't a wish she'd never though she get granted on Christmas.


End file.
